When I finished school, I took my entire life savings - $5,000 - and invested it in a business. I was young. I was inexperienced. But I was an entrepreneur, and I was proud. And in six weeks, I was broke.

The Summer of Sixty Eight

It wasn’t the summer of 69It was the summer of 68A levelsLeaving schoolSuddenly the map of life changedSchool bullies puffed up on hormonal bravadoWere now like amateur menJohn MarshallA school bullyWho, strangely, I got on withMe with my sticky out ears and buck teeth and skinninessHim with that rascal lookHim who’d got two B’sAnd me with my 4 A’sSummerHot – at least for England.

We’d all got our resultsNo more school uniformEighteenBut still sitting near the kids’ playgroundAt ‘the Marsh’We’d grown up thereBeen kids thereAnd now the great divide would comeMe – university to study mathsHim – he had no idea.

Forty years laterHim – a mental health nurse in LeedsMe - a mental health patient in GosfordWhat happened to that divide? To that parting of the ways? Had we just taken different pathsBut followed the same journeyThough to different destinations?

The sun’s now shining in AustraliaBut it’s wet and cold in LeedsI think he may be happierFor not wanting to succeed.

Spies

Sick and tired, the way they walkSick and tired, the way they talkSick and tired, the things they saySick and tired, wheres my j? Sick and tired, same old songSick and tired, wheres my bong? Sick and tired, anarchy!Spies are all around me, spies in every countySpies, my heads are bountySnipers in the airThe neighborhood watch is after us.The neighborhood watch dont like richters busThe neighborhood watch is what they say,But when I see them walkin towards me, I light another...Generation x is the title they useWhen I skate down mackenzie avenue.Everybody that I see is lookin at me like a vandalMaybe cause Im (wheelin? ) in some dickies and some sandalsMan, I know what you mean when you talk about the neighborhoodThe old folks always sayin that we aint no goodTalkin to my pops about my musicSayin we should keep it down and not abuse itMan, I dont sweat those old ass bastards.I just sit on the curb and with my herb and get plasteredThey work all day long, they seem so boredI think their ass should reside in the county morgueTheyre postin up signs, man I think they should chillTalkin if I dont call the cops then my neighbor willCause from city to city its all the same.The neighborhood watch is a big ass gangSick and tired the way they walk,Sick and tired the way they talkSick and tired the things they say, sick and tired. wheres my j? Sick and tired, same old song, sick and tired wheres my bong? Sick and tired, anarchy!Spies are all around me, spies in every countySpies, my heads are bountySnipers in the airThe neighborhood watch is after us.The neighborhood watch dont like richters busThe neighborhood watch is what they say,But when I think theyre walkin towards me, I light another...Every night when the street lights came onWe used to gather round, take rips from that bong.Cause john wayne country, republican blockA bunch of overweight housewives that wanna be cops.Cook and clean, the life of slaveTake kottonmouths advice and call jenny craigIts not in my control, when we were in schoolWanna see us livin life like the golden rulePeepin out the window, folks always lookingMinding my business when they should be cookingBored is how their life must be,Wait till theres a real crime on our streetThats when, yeah theyll all run and hideLeaving kottonmouth behind to take the neighborhood prideWhen the criminals are lying dead in the streetsKottonmouths returning all the stolen tvsYeah but thats all right, its all goodNow you know whos watchin this neighborhoodCause from city to city its all the sameThe neighborhood watch is a bitch ass gangSick and tired, the way they walkSick and tired, the way they talkSick and tired, the things they saySick and tired, wheres my j? Sick and tired, same old songSick and tired, wheres my bong? Sick and tired, anarchy!Spies are all around me, spies in every countySpies, my heads are bountySnipers in the airThe neighborhood watch is after us.The neighborhood watch dont likerichters bus.The neighborhood watch is what they say,But when I see them walkin towards me, I light another...

Empire State Of Mind

Yeah, Yeah, I'ma up at Brooklyn, now I'm down in TribecaRight next to De Niro, but I'll be hood foreverI'm the new Sinatra, and since I made it hereI can make it anywhere, yeah, they love me everywhere

I used to cop in Harlem, all of my DominicanosRight there up on Broadway, brought me back to that McDonald'sTook it to my stash spot,560 State StreetCatch me in the Kitchen like a Simmons whipping pastry

Cruising down 8th Street, off-white LexusDriving so slow, but BK is from TexasMe I'm up at Bed-Stuy, home of that boy BiggieNow I live on Billboard, and I brought my boys with me

Say what up to Ty Ty, still sipping mai taiSitting courtside, Knicks and Nets give me high fivesNigga I be spiked out, I can trip a referee, Tell by my attitude, that I am most definitely from

In New York, concrete jungle where dreams are made, ohThere's nothing you can't do, now you're in New YorkThese streets will make you feel brand newBig lights will inspire you, let's hear it for New YorkNew York, New York(I made you hot, nigga)

Catch me at the X with OG at a Yankee game, Shit, I made the Yankee hat more famous than a Yankee canYou should know I bleed blue, but I ain't a Crip thoughBut I got a gang of niggas walking with my clique, though

Welcome to the melting pot, corners where we selling rockAfrika Bambaataa shit, home of the hip hopYellow Cab, Gypsy Cab, Dollar Cab, holla backFor foreigners that ain't fifty they act like they forgot how to act

Eight million stories, out there, and they're nakedCities is a pity, half of y'all won't make itMe I gotta plug, Special Ed 'I Got It Made'If Jesus payin' LeBron, I'm paying Dwyane Wade

Three dice, Cee-lo, three-card, MonteLabor Day Parade, rest in peace, Bob MarleyStatue of Liberty, long live the World TradeLong live the king yo, I'm from the Empire State that's

In New York, concrete jungle where dreams are made, ohThere's nothing you can't do, now you're in New YorkThese streets will make you feel brand newBig lights will inspire you, let's hear it for New YorkNew York, New York

Lights is blinding, girls need blindersSo they can step out of bounds quickThe sidelines is, blind with casualtiesWho sipping life casually, then gradually become worse

Don't bite the apple Eve, caught up in the in crowdNow you're in style end of the winter gets coldEn vogue with your skin out, the city of sin is a pity on a whimGood girls gone bad, the cities filled with them

Mommy took a bus trip, now she got her bust outEverybody ride her, just like a bus routeHail Mary to the city you're a virginAnd Jesus can't save you life starts when the church ends

Came here for school, graduated to the high lifeBall players, rap stars addicted to the limelightMDMA got you feeling like a championThe city never sleeps, better slip you an Ambien

In New York, concrete jungle where dreams are made ofThere's nothing you can't do, now you're in New YorkThese streets will make you feel brand newBig lights will inspire you, let's hear it for New YorkNew York, New York

One hand in the air for the big cityStreet lights, big dreams all looking prettyNo place in the world that can comparePut your lighters in the air, everybody say yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah(Come on, come on)

In New York, concrete jungle where dreams are made, ohThere's nothing you can't do, now you're in New YorkThese streets will make you feel brand newBig lights will inspire you, let's hear it for New YorkNew York, New York

Thy Will Be Done!

I always thought that Jean La Mare was strange, Gave me the creeps, With lank, uncared for russet hairAnd eyes with depths and deeps, She hung her head when walking byWore dresses to her shins, She had no friends at school, at lunchSat by the rubbish bins.

Her father was the picture of aMartinet of old, Bolt upright, at attention heWould rant at her, and scold.An Army Colonel, long retiredHis wife dead in the ground, His thoughts for bringing daughters upWere ancient, and profound.

She dared not answer back, nor baulkAt anything he said, He kept her close, so close we thoughtThat she slept in his bed.We never saw her out of schoolShe cooked and cleaned and swept, When asked if she'd be at the Ball, She turned away, and wept.

Time passed, and we had left the school, Got on with living life, I met someone, and pretty soonHad caught myself a wife, But my old friend from schooldaysRichard Carson, lived alone, He said he'd not met anyoneWho thrilled him to the bone.

We'd all turned just on thirty whenHe dropped the big surprise, He said that he'd asked Jean La Mare! I answered, 'Is that wise? 'It seems the Martinet had died, Was safely in his box, So Jean was free, and so was heTo tie the wedding knots.

I saw her at the wedding there, The first time then for years, I saw her laugh for once, she laughedSo much, it came to tears.They seemed so happy in that church, Her burden dead and gone, But Richard told me later ofHer curse - 'Thy Will Be Done! '

For every evening of her lifeShe'd get down on her knees, Before a varnished wooden boxAnd pray that she had pleased! The box stood on the mantelpieceAnd Richard dared not askJust what was in that box; he thoughtIt was her father's ash!

She'd pray and ask for guidance, thenShe'd listen in the gloom, He never heard a murmur but, she did, Before that tomb! She'd answer statements no-one made, Would wail, then plead, implore, While Richard stayed away and hid, Stood listening by the door!

He asked her what her father saidWhen he'd approached him once, The old man turned and marched away, He'd felt quite like a dunce! He'd asked if he could take her out, The Colonel stood and glared: 'If you should even speak to her, young man, I'll see you dead! '

But Jean had blushed and looked away, And wouldn't answer then, She muttered: 'He just didn't want meMixing with young men! 'But then she started acting strange, Would slyly look away, Whenever he came in the roomAs she was going to pray.

He came to see me, looking ill, He said he was unwell, That Jean was getting stranger by the dayHis life was hell! She'd served him up a meal that madeHim sick, perspire and weak, I told him he should get away...He found it hard to speak!

I didn't want to interfereBut things were looking grim, I went around to see them, well, not her, I cared for him.She flashed a look of hate at me, Unbridled, undisguised, She looked like some fanatic withGrey analytic eyes.

She left us then to talk, and ISaw on the mantelpiece, The box that he'd described to me, I said, 'Just call the Police! 'I'd flipped the clasp, the front swung downIt opened up to dread, For staring at us both, we sawHis eyeless, staring head!

Then Jean came back, let out a scream, Attacked me with a knife, I caught her wrist, said: 'Richard, Just restrain your crazy wife! 'She fell down on her knees and cried: 'I tried to be a son! 'Then listened, as if hearing it, Then said, 'Thy will be done! '

School Life

School Of Life

We graduate from school, And join the growing pool, Of the Human Race, To fight for a place, We can finally stand, A woman or a man, We don't graduate from school, This school of life, a rule.The only time we leave, The time for our release, Lay down like an autumn leaf, We will finally be at peace.

The school of life

God is the mentor, we the protégéIn this school of lifeMost valuable of all degreesMost toughest of all examsKnowledge grows through self experienceFailure makes us strongGod conducts innumerous testsTo test our tolerance and make us betterThe course duration variesBut time is triflingThe achievements are vitalWhen you complete your courseAnd depart from this schoolThe number of hearts you touchedIs your real degreeThe number of people you enthusedIs your real marksThe number of souls remembering youIs your true success in this exam

The School Of Life

A far different place than papers, books, and homework.The School of Life, is a never ending, when it comes to lessons.

In The School Of Life, I have learned, that notall, is ever learned, or comprehended.

The School Of Life, often teaches one, some bitter anddisappointing lessons.

This school, reveals much in the way of surprises. Manythat of a happy nature and some, devastating.

Somehow, The School Of Life, teaches one, to keep going.To try...try and try again. We learn that much is gainedthrough tenacity. We learn it matters not how many timesone is knocked down, for it is how many times we getup, that is the test in this school.

We learn of mans inhumanity to man. We learn that inhelping our fellow human beings, there is much reward.

We learn, that The School Of Life, has no graduating day.We learn, that we remain, an ongoing student of education.

The School Of Life, does have its rewards; a diploma ofknowledge, understanding and wisdom.

The School Of Life, better than any college in the world.The School of Life, where knowledge is ones ticket toanyplace in the world.

Learn ye well, for in The School Of Life, one does nothave the opportunity to repeat a grade.

The School Of Life...

A far different place than papers, books, and homework.The School of Life, is a never ending, when it comes to lessons.

In The School Of Life, I have learned, that notall, is ever learned, or comprehended.

The School Of Life, often teaches one, some bitter anddisappointing lessons.

This school, reveals much in the way of surprises. Manythat of a happy nature and some, devastating.

Somehow, The School Of Life, teaches one, to keep going.To try...try and try again. We learn that much is gainedthrough tenacity. We learn it matters not how many timesone is knocked down, for it is how many times we getup, that is the test in this school.

We learn of mans inhumanity to man. We learn that inhelping our fellow human beings, there is much reward.

We learn, that The School Of Life, has no graduating day.We learn, that we remain, an ongoing student of education.

The School Of Life, does have its rewards; a diploma ofknowledge, understanding and wisdom.

The School Of Life, better than any college in the world.The School of Life, where knowledge is ones ticket toanyplace in the world.

Learn ye well, for in The School Of Life, one does nothave the opportunity to repeat a grade.

Life a school, learning the living

Life, a schoolWith no class roomsWith no black boardsWith no one standing before you and teachingWith no testsWith no examsWith no marks, ranks and promotionsWith no booksLife, a schoolAnd you are in the same standard or class life through

Who is teaching, butEveryone you come across andEverything nearbyFrom just born to the one waiting to departThe leaf dancing to the tunes of the windThe car that is speeding by your sideThe plane flying up in the skyThe water flowing gently in the streamThe stars twinkling in the dark skyThe colourful horizon at the other endThe mist, cloud, smoke and emissionThe small ant busy carrying a much-bigger-to-its-size dry leafThe butterfly jumping from flower to flowerAll have potentials to teach, If you have the desire to learn

What do they teachTo remain happy everTo help others improve their status of happinessTo keep yourself balanced in all situationsTo go ahead with your work emotion freeTo stay healthy and be kickingTo be special of your ownTo be social and sociableTo lead and to be an active part in teamNot to lose time in dreams and wasteful thinkingNot to be lazy and lostNot to feel unwantedAnd quite a number of other things for lively livingAnd to apply what all you learntAnd just not remeber and pour it out for scoring marks

Who assesses performance? You and you onlyAs you only know what was taughtAnd you only know what was learntThe more you apply what you learntThe better is your performanceKnow your performace fromHow long you stay coolHow many derive benefits of your existenceHow many call on youAnd how many you call onHow do others respond to your requestsHow you respond to their requestsHow innovative and creative you remainHow many times you laugh in a dayAssess yourself, if not satisfactory, Apply more and more of what is learntAt the same learn more and more

What is the syllabusIt is for you decideAs you are the examinerYou are the taughtYou are the studentYou are the evaluatorYou are the Vice Chancellor of your Life UniversitySet the syllabus yourselfCheck then and there how far you are coveringFail not to apply, whatever is learnt

What happens if you failYou will remain where you are, not an inch ahead you can moveYou become stagnated and start stinkingNo one will be there nearNo one play with you, laugh or cry with youYou will not be special, but a specimenYou will have life, but really, are dead

People sayLearn to LiveLet us change that a bitLive to learnAs life is a schooland learning is living

In this little school

In this little schoolLife goes so sweetly, Day on azure day Is lost completely. No one thinks too much, Or worries greatly. In a pleasant shade We dream sedately. There's no struggle here Or conflict showing; Only the sweet pain Of young limbs growing.